A Caffeine Conundrum

by Angela Ruth Strong

  “Connor counts double.”

  Marissa had no idea how true her statement was. Tandy grabbed a paper cup to combine regular coffee with a shot of espresso, knowing the beverage Connor really wanted to drink was called a Black Eye. Once the contractor finished their renovation, he wouldn’t have an excuse to use a paper cup anymore, and the two of them wouldn’t get away with their secret little exchanges.

  Marissa worked beside her, steaming milk. “You giving yourself an extra shot of espresso to keep up with me?”

  Tandy fitted the lid to her cup and held it by her heart rather than take a sip. “Everyone needs espresso to keep up with you.” Especially Connor.

  Marissa filled her cup three-fourths full with milk then added tea from a floral tea pot with a jarringly bright turquoise spout and top. She handed the cup to Connor and stepped back with a smile, her face beaming with pride.

  Connor nodded thanks, his gray eyes sparkling at Marissa. It was cute to see how much the man adored his girlfriend despite how different they were. He didn’t even have to say a word for his infatuation to show.

  Marissa nodded toward his hands. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

  Connor didn’t move. “I don’t want to burn my tongue.” It was impressive he could come up with such a great excuse while still half asleep, though it could also be true.

  Tandy snorted accidentally.

  Marissa looked over her shoulder. “What?”

  George returned. Saved by the bell.

  Tandy pointed to the jumpsuit in George’s hand. It was brown, which would almost be worse than black for her business partner. “Connor doesn’t know what you are trying yet, Marissa.”

  The other woman’s gaze landed on the garment folded in George’s hands, and she visibly recoiled. “Connor has work to do in the loft.” She stood on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Go ahead, honey. I’ll come up later to find out what you think of my tea.”

  Connor didn’t go anywhere. He looked from person to person, and once George gripped the shoulders of the coveralls to let the legs unfold toward the ground, the confusion on his face melted into curiosity. “I’m in no rush.” He leaned against the counter.

  Tandy joined him because with Marissa stepping toward George, they were free to switch cups behind her back. They did so with practiced precision then Connor soundlessly clinked his cup of coffee against the tea in Tandy’s hand and took a gulp.

  His shoulders relaxed. Tandy knew that feeling well.

  George held out the jumpsuit.

  Marissa pinched the edges gingerly and lifted it away from her body like a dirty diaper.

  The bell over the door chimed again, announcing Billie, the older Asian woman who owned the antique store across the street. “Wow, you girls are busy already, and it’s barely seven a.m.”

  “Hi, Billie.” Tandy didn’t consider one paying customer to be the definition of busy, but Billie was always completely genuine in her optimism, and Tandy loved her for it.

  Marissa would love her even more for this distraction. “Yes, we are busy. George, I’ll have to try your jumpsuit on later.”

  “Sure.” George sent Tandy a smug smile, saying he didn’t believe Marissa for a second. “I’ve got to get back to work as well. Congrats on the new shop, ladies.”

  Tandy waved. “Thanks, George. Nice to meet you.” She would have preferred he stayed and made Marissa model for them, but as this was the grand opening of A Caffeine Conundrum, she should focus on her job. She rounded the edge of the counter and lifted her cup toward the waste basket to free her hands for taking Billie’s order.

  “Tandy,” Marissa hissed, stopping her in her tracks.

  Tandy glanced up, her muscles flexing with a surge of adrenaline. Perhaps residual panic from when their lives were threatened in this very building a couple months before. Though, at the moment, Marissa was likely only horrified by the thought of wearing a jumpsuit. “What?” Tandy asked anyway.

  Marissa jutted her chin toward the cup in Tandy’s hand, mistaking it for the cup of coffee she’d thought Tandy made for herself. “Are you not going to drink that?”

  Oops.

  Connor covered his mouth as if hiding a grin and escaped up the stairs. If he let Tandy take the fall like this, she’d be better off giving him a real “black eye” rather than the coffee with an extra shot. But she’d have to deal with him later. Right now she needed to think quickly.

  What could she say? “I’ve already had two coffees this morning, and I’m starting to feel nervous.” Completely true. She had anxiety about Marissa finding out what was inside her cup.

  Marissa crossed her arms, her new jumpsuit hanging from one hand. “Do you not remember the rant you went on when I almost threw away a couple of your leftover coffee beans? You said it was wasteful, and we needed to cherish our goods the way we want our customer to cherish them.”

  Yes, Tandy had said that. But she hadn’t been thinking of tea at the time. Of course, Marissa didn’t know she was holding tea. “You’re right.” She pulled the cup back to her chest. Now what?

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  Tandy paused, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to appease this monster to save Connor’s soul. “Drink it?” she guessed.

  “Only if you think it’s worth drinking.”

  Drat. Tandy was cornered by her own words. Slowly, she raised the cup to her lips.

  Would it be suspicious if she plugged her nose while sipping? Possibly.

  Connor owed her big time.

  With a deep breath, Tandy closed her eyes, curled her toes, and sipped the most…the most…the most satisfying drink she’d ever tasted. Rich. Silky. Liquid pleasure. Like crème brûlée in a cup.

  It was that good.

  Could Marissa’s morning get any worse? First, she’d slipped in a puddle, then she stupidly agreed to try on a jumpsuit that resembled a paper bag, and now, Tandy was acting like their product didn’t matter. Granted, Marissa would have thrown away the coffee herself, but Tandy was supposed to be selling the stuff. Would she continue to be this wasteful?

  Speaking of waste, Marissa’s little white paper bag she’d given to George with a crumpet inside still sat on the counter. She’d agreed to try on the jumpsuit only if he tried the crumpet, but he hadn’t kept his end of the bargain.

  The bell over the door chimed, and she looked up in hopes George had returned.

  Randon trudged in, his thick eyebrows low over dark, brooding eyes. Obviously, he wasn’t having a good day either. Oh yeah. The Corvette.

  “Hello, Randon.” Marissa stuffed the jumpsuit in a basket behind the counter before he could see it and ask questions. She would have preferred not to speak to him at all since he was more likely to order coffee than tea—and also because of their almost fateful date last Christmas. But Tandy was busy trying to talk Billie into ordering a Mexican Mocha under the argument that since Billie liked cinnamon in her apple cider then she’d also enjoy cinnamon with coffee. When Marissa got a second, she’d brew a cup of orange spice tea for Billie, and the woman would vow her allegiance forever. But at the moment, she had to make a similar offer to Randon. “Can I get you anything?”

  Randon scraped a chair against the wood floors then landed in it with a thunk. “Can you get my car back?”

  Marissa frowned. Why was he asking her about his car? “I can’t, but Jumpsuit George can.”

  Randon studied her out of the corner of his eyes. “Why do you think that?”

  Marissa scratched her head. Maybe Randon didn’t know George had found his car. “Because that’s what George does when people get their cars stuck in snow.”

  Randon swiveled to face her fully. “My car isn’t stuck in snow. My car was stolen.”

  Stolen. The word and its implications echoed through Marissa’s mind. Her lips parted. “Oh.” Her heart trilled. Did this mean what she thought it meant? “Jumpsuit George just stopped in for coffee after picking up your Corvette. He
thought you abandoned it.”

  Randon jumped to his feet. “George was here? With my car? Is it okay?”

  Marissa blinked, shook her head, and pointed out the window. “He parked around the corner. You didn’t see him?”

  Randon sprinted toward the door. “I came in the other way—from the police station.”

  Wow. Marissa had helped crack another crime. On her first day of business. She could see the headline now, Tea Shop Owner Serves Solved Mysteries. It could really boost her sales.

  “I’m coming too.” She grabbed the bag holding her crumpet from the counter and ran outside after him. She needed to be there when the news reporters showed up. Maybe they’d even get a photo of George eating her pastry. “Wait, Randon.” Running in snow was not one of her talents.

  Thankfully, he paused at the corner.

  Her foot slipped twice, but she caught up to him without further incident…until she followed his gaze. Then her heart plummeted.

  Not only was Randon’s Corvette missing from the back of the tow truck, but George lay lifeless in a mound of bloody snow. And somehow, she knew it wasn’t because he’d slipped.

  Their very first customer had been murdered.

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